


Principessa Diana

by BadWolfRose (BadWolf1988)



Series: Diana & Nona Series [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Introvert, Older Man/Younger Woman, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10931727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolf1988/pseuds/BadWolfRose
Summary: Diana Britton is a successful romance novelist...with a not so successful personal life. At twenty-nine, she can't seem to relate to men her own age. She hates the bar/club scene, thinks modern music is a joke, and truly believes that technology will be the downfall of Western civilization.David Rossi is an FBI agent with a trail of broken hearts in his past. At fifty-five, he is tired of one-night stands and ten-minute marriages. He's lonely. On a trip to Boston to promote his latest true crime book, David meets Diana.Will age and distance stand in the way of true love?





	1. Diana

“So, to recap: _Footprints in the Sand_ made the _New York Times Bestseller's List_ – at number one, _Harlequin_ expects the finished manuscript for, _The Phantom Revisited_ by the end of next month, and _Warner Brothers_ has put out feelers about buying the rights to _Love's Bounty_.” My agent, Kristy, droned on but I wasn't really paying attention. It was just the same old crap on a different day.

I needed a break. Pushing out five romance novels a year was killing me. I was twenty-nine and had been dong this since I was nineteen and had been discovered after submitting a short story to a contest being run by the romance publisher, Harlequin. I had been a fresh voice, an author writing for teenagers and young adults instead of middle aged, bored with their marriages housewives. I was the pride of the _Harlequin_ stable of authors but I was sick of it. Instead of writing about romance, I actually wanted to live for once. I was the only romance writer that I knew that didn't have so much as a boyfriend waiting at home. Aside from a first love that had left me pretty scared for life and a few dates here and there, I really had no romantic experience whatsoever. I wrote about what I wanted, not what I actually experienced. Fantasy and reality were two extremely different things. How was I ever going to find love if I spent all of my time simply writing about it?

“Diana? Are you even listening to a word I say?” Kristy huffed as she picked up her glass of ice tea and took a sip.

We were at our weekly brunch meeting at _Artison's Table_ , my favorite restaurant in my hometown of Orlando.

“Yeah...what else is on the agenda?” I asked absently.

Kristy just rolled her eyes as she looked back down at her iPad. I had known her since we were in the fourth grade together. I had been the introverted weird girl. Kristy had been the class mean girl...and not much had changed over the years. She was still a colossal bitch. The only reason I worked with her was because her bitchy demeanor also served to make her one of the best literary agents in the industry.

“May first through the seventh you are expected in Boston for the annual Muse and Writer Conference. You are giving two lectures, have agreed to hold a workshop, perform a book signing, and attend an author's panel on the last day of the conference.” Kristy rattled off in a bored tone of voice.

I loved Boston. The history of the city alone was enough to draw me in every time. I'm pretty sure the week I got to spend there was the main reason why I agreed to attend the Muse and Writer Conference every year. It sure as hell wasn't because I enjoyed meeting new people.

“After that, don't schedule any more personal appearances for awhile. I have way too many unfinished manuscripts sitting on my desk.” I instructed as the waitress arrived with our meals.

“The fewer appearances you make, the less money you make.”

“Money isn't everything.” I shook my head. I had made enough to retire a long time ago so I really wasn't worried about the financial ramifications of my decision.

When I looked up at my agent, poor Kristy looked like I had just told her that the world was flat. Opps. I had forgotten. Kristy got twenty percent of all my appearance fees. Guess she was going to have to lay off the expensive spray tans for awhile.

 

 

[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolf1988.wixsite.com/badwolf1988)


	2. Dave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so far behind on Criminal Minds that it is not even funny. I don't remember how the Reaper storyline ended or even if it did. If my facts are wrong, please forgive me.

“Dave, how long do you plan on being away?” Aaron asked, not looking up from the paperwork in front of him.

“A little over a week.” I was seated on the leather couch in the younger agent's office with a stack of case files on the glass coffee table in front of me. One lay open in my lap as I filled out a case report.

The B.A.U. was experiencing an unusual amount of down time – not that we were complaining – so Aaron and I were taking that time and catching up on all of our backed up paperwork. The bureaucracy that was the FBI really, truly sucked sometimes. There was no elegant way of putting it...it just sucked.

“The last day of April to May eighth.” I gave him the exact dates. He was filling out my vacation time request form. He was going to end up asking anyway.

“Where is it you're going anyway?” Aaron finally looked up. “You said you were taking vacation, you just never said where or why.”

“I'm a guest speaker at a conference in Boston,” I replied, signing my name to the bottom of a case report, I finished up with the case file that I had been working on for the past two damn hours. “I'm also doing a book signing for my new book.”

“The one about the Reaper?” Aaron asked with a haunted look in his eyes.

I gave a curt nod, “It's my first release in awhile so my publisher wants to drum up some interest.” While the Reaper case may finally have been put to bed, I knew that with the loss of Hailey, the memory of George Foyet would live with Aaron forever.

“Are you going to take any of that time away to actually relax?” Aaron changed the subject and gave me a look that I was almost positive he gave Jack when he was giving the little boy a lecture.

“The cabin is for relaxing. This is a work trip.” I replied dismissively.

“When was the last time you were even up at Little Creek?” Aaron challenged, not letting the subject drop.

It had been almost five months. Mudgie was going stir crazy in my D.C. area condo with only daily walks and no room to really run free. My friend Bill, who owned the hunting lodge to the north of my cabin had even called a few days earlier to check up and make sure that I was still alive.

The truth was...I was sick of the solitude. I was tired of drinking hundred-year-old scotch and listening to Tony Bennet alone. The more I worked, the less time I had to focus on how lonely I truly was.

“Drop it, Aaron,” I told him sharply.

Aaron Hotchner was a smart enough man to know when to leave well enough alone and shut up.

 

**_[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolf1988.wixsite.com/badwolf1988) _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And look at that! There's Dave! These are just the two OPENING chapters. They are MEANT to be short. And to all my readers, FYI, I ALWAYS introduce the leading lady first. I'm sorry if that bugs people.


	3. Diana

_April 30_

_Dulles International Airport_

I groaned as I lugged my brown leather computer bag from one gate to another. Kristy had taken out her frustration at me for temporarily halting public appearances by convincing my dimwitted assistant personal assistant to book me on a flight from Orlando to Boston with a change of flight in D.C. Matthew usually booked me on a straight shoot. I was going to smack the hell out of him when I got home.

As I made my way to my new gate, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and ended up colliding with another person.

“Shit,” I muttered as I nearly fell over but a pair of strong arms reached out and steadied me.

“You alright, cara?” A rich voice with a slight New York accent asked.

Once I had regained my bearings, I looked up to find a handsome, middle-aged Italian man with a goatee...and an amused smirk hidden behind it.

“Ye...yeah,” I managed to stutter out in reply. One on one interactions with handsome men were not my forte. “Sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.” Nope, not one bit. I had been mentally strangling Matthew.

“No harm done.” The man shook his head with a smile before turning and making his way to the gate to board the plane.

It took me a moment to collect myself before I too made my way to the gate and handed over my boarding pass to the flight attendant. Once I was on board and found my seat, I thanked God that Matthew had at least remembered to purchase me an aisle seat. I detested flying and the last thing I wanted was to be forced to sit next to the window with a constant reminder that I was not on the ground. Yes, I knew you could pull the shade down but it didn't matter to my anxiety.

It was only after I had stowed my laptop and taken my seat that I noticed that my seatmate was the handsome Italian man that I had literally bumped into only a few minutes earlier. He had the true crime book, _The Reaper Case Revisited_ , open on his try and was scribbling on a legal pad. He stopped when he noticed me. “We meet again,” He said as he put the cap on his pen.

“Looks like it,” Yeah, I was only witty on paper.

“David Rossi,” He turned and held out his hand to me.

“Diana Britton,” I introduced myself and shook his hand.

“Diana Britton the author?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

I was actually grateful that he didn't preface the word author with the word romance. In the literary world, writing about love automatically seemed to make you a lesser artist in the eyes of the industry. “Yeah,” I gave him a genuine smile.

“I loved your novel, _Footprints in the Sand_. It was a risk writing about the parents of murdered children finding love with each other...but you did it very realistically. The emotions were very true to life. You also captured the psychosis of the serial killer beautifully.”

I'm pretty sure that was the greatest compliment that I had ever received in regards to my work and I was struck by a sudden suspicion. “Any chance you're that David Rossi?” I nodded at the cover of the book on his tray.

He nodded, “Yeah, but most people call me Dave.”

“Or Agent Rossi?”

This time, he was the one who was surprised that I knew who he was. “At work, yeah.” He chuckled.

“I used your book, _Portrait of a Modern Serial Killer_ to help me develop the serial killer in _Footprints in the Sand_ ,” I explained.

“I guess it really is a small world...Principessa Diana.” He smirked.

I rolled my eyes, “While that isn't the first time I've been called that...kudos to you for being the first person to do it in Italian.” I chuckled and he smiled. “My mom loved Roman mythology. I was named for the goddess of the hunt. I also have a sister named Nona and a brother named Apollo.”

As he sat there looking at me as though he was trying to figure out if I was being serious or not, I couldn't help but dissolve into laughter as the plane taxied onto the runway.

 

 

**_[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) _ **


	4. Dave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by @Christlove88

By the time that we landed in Boston, I had become quite enchanted with my raven-haired seat mate and found myself not wanting to part from her company. Diana was a unique woman for her age, which couldn't be more than thirty (he was a gentleman, he hadn't asked). She was introverted but very smart and witty once she was comfortable with you. She also had tastes that ran more in line with his generation than hers. She confessed to enjoying the music of the Beatles, Joan Baez, even Tony Bennett and good ol' Frank Sinatra. Like me, she also still stubbornly carried a Blackberry because she didn't see the need of upgrading to a smartphone.

When it came to looks, she reminded me of what I'd always imagined the mythical Diana she was named for to look like. Hair as dark as night, brown eyes with a touch of honey, sun-kissed skin and a voluptuously short build. If you asked me to describe my perfect woman, all I would have to do was point at her.

We got off the plane together and chatted all the way to baggage claim. When I discovered that we would be staying at the same hotel, I took a chance and asked if she wanted to share a cab. To my pleasant surprise, she said yes. Once at the hotel, I started to think that maybe fate was trying to tell me something when our rooms ended up being directly across from each other.

I couldn't help myself, as she stood outside her room, waiting for the bell hop to finish unloading her bags, I asked, "Hey, Principessa Diana, you wanna come over and have a drink with me?" I knew that since she was an introvert, I would have a better chance of getting her to agree to a drink if I didn't ask her out to a public place. "I have the Beatles  _White Album_  on my iPod."

That actually got a smiled out of her and she nodded, "sure, I'd like that."

"Why don't you go and change into something more comfortable and meet me over here in say, an hour?" I suggested and she agreed.

Once alone in my room, I noticed the time. It was a little after six. I was starving and I knew that Diana hadn't eaten since at least before she had boarded the plane so I placed a call to room service. I ordered a couple steaks and their best bottle of scotch. I had just changed out of my suit and into a pair of jeans and a red button-down shirt when Diana arrived at the same time as room service.

As I tipped the bell hop, I took a look at what Diana was wearing. She had traded in her skinny jeans and prim blouse for a pair of black leggings and a loose fitting purple sweater that hung off one shoulder. Her hair was in a messy ponytail and on her feet were a pair of uggs. She looked adorable.

Once the bell hop had left, closing the door behind him, I turned to her with a warm smile. "I ordered us dinner... I hope you don't mind."

She shook her head. "No, I don't mind but, Dave... is this a date?"

"Only if you want it to be. I've noticed you're a bit introverted so I thought it best to just let you decide. I like you but if you're not interested, this can just be dinner between two friends, no pressure."

"You picked up on the introversion, huh?"

I knew she was stalling to give herself time to think and I let her. "I'm a profiler, cara, it's what I do."

"I like you too, Dave." She paused and chewed on her bottom lip. "And I think I'd like for this to be a date."

I reached out and took her hand, rubbing soothing little circles on her palm with my thumb. "Then a date it is, cara."

 

[ **_MY WEBSITE_ ** ](http://www.badwolfrose.com)


	5. Diana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: 'Dear Prudence” is copyright © the Beatles. I make no claims of ownership.

After the shock of discovering that Dave was attracted to me and wanted to turn our evening drink into a date had worn off, I was slowly starting to relax in the older man's presence once again. I considered this a major achievement on my part. I was usually an anxious mess on dates and guys never called me again. It wasn't like that with Dave though. He had this amazing ability to make a person feel completely at ease in his company. After only a few minutes of talking to him, you felt like you had known him for years.

“So, what got you into writing?” Dave asked as he took a sip of his scotch.

After finishing dinner, we had moved to the small sitting room of Dave's suite for a drink. We were both seated on the small sofa but he had been considerate enough to give me a wide berth. “I've been shy and introverted my whole life.” I pulled my feet up and tucked them underneath me. “At first, when I was a kid, I tried to fit in. I believed my parents when they told me that the more I socialized, the better I'd get. I spent all of elementary school forcing myself into uncomfortable situations in a vain attempt at fitting in. The only good thing that came out of those years was that I learned that I loved to write... and I was good at it. By the time I was twelve and shopped off to boarding school in France, I had figured it out. I was way better at writing about the real world than I was at living in it... and that's what I've stuck to ever since.” I tucked a piece of my dark brown hair behind my ear and giggled nervously. “That was probably way more than you wanted to know when you asked that question.”

“Actually,” he reached out and took my empty glass out of my hand, setting it on the tiny wooden coffee table. “That's exactly the answer that I was looking for. Do you know what I love about introverts, cara?”

“What?” I asked, biting my lip.

“When they grant you the privilege of getting to know them, everything they share with you is 100% honest and real. To a man that's been married three times, transparency is appreciated at this point.” He chuckled as he refilled his glass, silently asking if I would like another.

I shook my head no. “Three times?”

He simply held up three fingers and wiggled them before explaining, “I used to be too focused on my job with the FBI when I was younger. I left the job once, for my last wife. That's when I started writing and, like you, I discovered that I was pretty good at it. My marriage was already too far gone to be saved at that point but I got a nice paying second career out of the deal.”

“Why did you go back to the FBI?” I asked curiously. David Rossi was the go-to name in the true crime genre. There was no way he needed the government paycheck.

“After a while, I got sick of just writing about the job...”

“You actually wanted to live what you were writing,” I finished for him.

He nodded and smiled. “Yeah... sounds like you know exactly how that feels, mia stella.”

“I do,” I blushed and looked away.

“If I wanted to read one of your books... what book contains the best representation of you? All fiction authors have that one character that is based on themselves. What's yours?”

That was a question that I most certainly not been expecting. He was right of course. All authors had that one character. But did I really want to admit to mine? It was kind of embarrassing.

“I would never laugh at you, cara.” Dave looked over and caught my eye.

“Eden James in Love's Bounty,” I admitted.

“The shy, reclusive writer daughter of the President.” He downed the rest of his glass. “I had kind of already guessed that.” Had he actually read more than one of my books? He got to his feet and held out his hand to me as one of my all-time favorite songs started to drift from his iPod. “Dance with me, Principessa Diana?”

I think that was the first time in my life that I wasn't scared by a man reaching for my hand. Taking it, I let him pull me to my feet and into his arms, although once again he still kept a respectable distance. My arms were on his shoulders and his hands were on my waist. It was almost comical. It was like we were two teenagers at the middle school dance as we swayed to the music.

“ _Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?_

_Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day._

_The sun is up, the sky is blue,_

_It's beautiful and so are you._

_Dear Prudence, won't you come out and play?”_

At this point in the song, I had grown a little bolder and moved my arms from his shoulders to loosely drape around his neck. Following my cue, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tighter against him.

“ _Dear Prudence, open up your eyes._

_Dear Prudence, see the sunny skies._

_The wind is low, the birds will sing,_

_That you are part of everything._

_Dear Prudence, won't you open up your eyes?”_

As I stared into the dark brown eyes of my dance partner, I was both thrilled and terrified. For the first time ever, I was looking at a man who knew how to get past my carefully constructed walls. David Rossi had the power to emotionally destroy me if I let this go any further. Was that a risk that I was willing to take?

 

[ ** _MY WEBSITE_ ** ](http://www.badwolfrose.com)


	6. Dave

The next morning, I made sure that I was at Diana's door bright and early. I had seen the panic in her brown eyes the night before and I didn't want to give her the chance to run from what could turn out to be a very good thing for the both of us.

Just as I raised my hand to knock, the door opened and I came face to face with a surprised Diana.

“Dave,” she smiled nervously. “What are you doing here so early?” She was dressed in jeans a white t-shirt and had her purse slung over her shoulder and chest.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to have breakfast with me but it looks like you're on your way out.” I nodded at her purse. “Where are you off to, cara?” I inquired. The conference didn't start until the following morning so she couldn't be on her way to a public appearance.

“To play tourist,” she giggled uneasily. “I was going to visit JFK's birthplace and take a Kennedy themed walking tour in the North End.”

“Mind if I come along, Principessa Diana?” I gave her my most charming smile. “My rental car should have been delivered to the parking garage this morning so it'll save you from having to waste money on a cab. We can call it our second date.”

She bit her bottom lip, ran her hand through her hair and seemed to wage some sort of internal battle with herself. Finally, she sighed and stepped back into her room, waving her hand to indicate that I should come in as well. Once we were inside, she closed the door and leaned her back against it, her eyes closed.

“What's wrong, dolcezza?” I didn't make a move closer so as not to invade her personal space. “You can talk to me, you know.” I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my jeans and kept my tone casual. I would do whatever it took to keep Diana from retreating into herself and away from me.

“You could really hurt me, Dave.” She opened her eyes but didn't look at me or move away from the door.

“You could really hurt me too, Diana.” I couldn't help but take a step closer. “It might be hard for you to wrap your pretty little head around but you're not the only one feeling things that you've never felt before.”

This got her to actually look at me. “We live in different states,” she pointed out. “You said you work all the time and my anxiety can't handle a lot of travel. And what about the fact that you're twenty-one years older than me? That is a whole old enough to drink person older!”

I could see the panic attack coming before it even started. Now, I did invade her personal space. Walking to stand directly in front of her, I took her purse off her shoulder and set it on the table by the suite door before taking her hand and leading her to the loveseat in the small sitting area. I took a seat and gently tugged her to sit down next to me.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and was a little surprised when she didn't pull away. She was tense and didn't move closer but she still didn't pull away. I took this as a good sign. “Age is nothing more than a state of mind, bella. It matters how old you are on the inside, not how old you look on the outside... and you, mia tesoro, are a very old soul. You just happen to have a very beautiful, young wrapper.” She giggled and blushed but she also relaxed a little bit more. “And, if we work out, there's always options to solve the distance problem. You could move to Virginia with me or I could retire again and move to Orlando with you but... let's not worry about that right now.” I gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “We have a week together to see if this is something we both want. Let's enjoy it and worry about the rest when it comes.”

She turned to me and smiled. “I like that idea,” she said softly. “Wanna be my date today?”

“I'd love to, cara,” I reached up with my free hand and brushed some of her dark hair behind her ear. “But I want to try something first... if it's okay with you?” I was about to press my luck and I knew it.

“What?” she asked curiously.

“Can I kiss you, dolcezza?” I watched her closely to gauge her reaction.

She looked startled for a moment before her face flushed and she nodded, “yeah.”

Relived that she said yes, I cupped her cheek in my hand and placed a tender and chaste – I didn't want to scare her – kiss on her lips. When a happy little sigh escaped her, I couldn't help but smile as I pulled away.

“I think that's something I'm going to want to try again later,” I said jokingly although I was completely serious.

Diana laughed and I was starting to think that red was now the permanent color of her face. “Me too,” she nodded.

Not wanting to push her any further for the moment, I got to my feet and held out my hand to help her to her feet. “So, why a tour of JFK's birthplace?” I asked as we walked hand in hand towards the door.

“I'm kind of a history geek who has an odd fascination with the Kennedy family.” She laughed as she retrieved her purse and we headed out. “I know, I'm a nerd.”

“We're headed to Brookline then?” I laughed at the look of shock that came over her face at the fact that I knew the location of JFK's birthplace. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer as we entered the elevator. “You're not the only history geek in this relationship, cara.”

 

 

_**[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) ** _

 


	7. Diana

I started our date a complete nervous wreck. Dave's kiss, while amazing, also served as a reminder of all that I stood to lose if this relationship didn't work out. Dave had been correct when he said that I was feeling things that I had never felt before. Being with him felt freeing but it also felt like coming home. I wasn't used to either one of those feelings.

Dave had put up with my standoffish behavior right up until we finished touring JFK's Beals Street birthplace. He slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me to his side as we made our way over to the group that was waiting for the North End Kennedy-themed walking tour to begin. “You know, dolcezza, this is a date, not a hostage situation... relax.”

Easy for him to say. He hadn't been born with a chemical imbalance that made relaxing next to impossible. I hated it when people told me to relax. It was like they thought I was anxious and socially awkward because I wanted to be. If I had a choice in the matter did they really think I'd choose to feel this way? It was maddening. Who purposefully made themselves emotionally unstable?

To his credit, Dave seemed to realize that he'd said something stupid almost as soon as the words had left his mouth. “Forget what I just said, cara mia. I know better than to ask you to do that.” He gave my waist a light squeeze and laid a kiss on my cheek.

“It's okay,” I smiled, instantly forgiving him. There weren't a lot of people willing to put up with someone like me and I cherished the few who did. I didn't expect the people in my life to get it right all of the time when it came to my anxiety. I just expected them to try and that's exactly what Dave was doing.

Our tour guide appeared before us and I suddenly found myself disinterested in taking the tour. “Do you want to blow this off and go and do something else?” I asked, looking up at him. I hadn't planned this outing knowing that it would turn into a date and I found myself disliking the group atmosphere even more than I normally did.

“Sure, sweetheart.” He pulled me a few steps back, onto the sidewalk, as the tour group departed minus us. “What would you like to do?”

I took a moment and wracked my brain, thinking of all the things in Boston that I either enjoyed doing or still wanted to do. The Red Sox weren't playing so Fenway Park was out. “How about we do the aquarium and then get lunch?” I suggested. “It will be easier for me to relax and enjoy our date if I'm not stuck around a bunch of people. We can go at our pace at the aquarium and get to know each other better.” Was I babbling? It sure sounded like I was babbling.

Dave smiled and pulled me into his arms. “Time alone with you sounds like heaven, dolcezza.” He used the palm of his hand to rub soothing little circles on the base of my back.

Even though my heart was beating so fast that I thought I could hear it in my ears, I leaned up on the tip of my toes and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

 

 

_**[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com)** _

 


	8. Dave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: 'I Can't Fight This Feeling' is copyright © REO Speedwagon.
> 
> Author's Note: I totally made up the exhibit mentioned in this chapter so don't expect to find it on a visit to the New England Aquarium. I kind of wish it was real though.

Diana and I were mostly silent as we strolled from exhibit to exhibit at the _New England Aquarium_ and she was still slightly jumpy. Even though she had kissed me back on Beals Street, she still wasn't completely comfortable with me. That very fact ate at something inside me. A sign off to the side caught my attention.

_**The Soft Rock Jelly Fish Light Show** _

_**Every 30 Minutes!** _

I looked down at my watch. A show would be starting in five minutes. “What do you think, cara mia?” I got Diana's attention and nodded towards the sign.

She nodded with a small smile and allowed me to take her hand and pull her through the door. On the other side, we found ourselves alone in a small auditorium. Special seats, that faced upwards looked up a huge water-filled tank.

I took a seat just as the lights went down. Instead of allowing Diana to pass me and take a seat in the chair beside me, I pulled my introverted love interest to sit with me. The way the chairs were designed, this had the effect of her pretty much laying on my chest as we gazed up at the tank. I'm not sure how I expected Diana to react to our intimate position but I certainly hadn't expected her to do what she did. Placing her hand on my chest, she actually cuddled closer to me. I wrapped my arms around her and placed a kiss on her forehead.

Suddenly, a black light was shined into the tank above us and hundreds of fluorescent blue jellyfish could be seen serenely drifting through the water as the auditorium's sound system began playing.

_“I can't fight this feeling any longer,_

_And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow._

_What started out as friendship has grown stronger._

_I only wish I had the strength to let it show...”_

Diana picked up her head and looked at me for a moment before leaning forward and softly pressing her lips to mine.

_“And even as I_ _wander_ _,_

_I'm keeping you in sight._

_You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night...”_

Diana actually giggled when we broke apart. “You know,” she whispered, “this would be so romantic if the song wasn't so cheesy.”

I just shook my head and chuckled before pulling her lips back to mine.

_“Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore,_

_I've forgotten what I started fighting for._

_And if I have to crawl upon the floor,_

_Come crashing through your door,_

_Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore.”_

 

 

_**[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) ** _


	9. Diana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The movie 'Multiplicity' is copyright © Harold Ramis. I just borrowed a few quotes from an awesome but forgotten 90's movie.

After the aquarium, we had gone to lunch at a small little diner hidden away in downtown Boston. I was happy to find myself now completely relaxed with Dave. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that I had spent a half an hour in his arms, making out with him while glow-in-the-dark jellyfish spied on us from above. I hadn't shied away from his affections since. Hell, I had even begun seeking it out myself. By the time we arrived back at the hotel, I found myself not wanting to part from his company.

“Hey, carina, do you want to come back to my room with me?” Dave wrapped his arm around my waist as we waited for the elevator. “We could watch a movie.”

It looks like I wasn't the only one who didn't want the date to end just yet... or ever in my case. The elevator dinged and the golden doors opened. Dave ushered me inside before I answered, “I'd love to.”

An hour later found us cuddled on his bed watching 'Multiplicity' on HBO.

“ _You're both doodie-heads! Go up to your rooms and don't come out until you're married!”_

“I think I might have yelled something similar at my little brother and sister when I used to watch them when I was a teenager,” I giggled into Dave's chest, on which I was happily laying.

“Did you have to look after them a lot?” Dave asked curiously, as he ran his fingers through my hair in a way that was making me totally sleepy.

“Our mom died when I was fourteen. Breast cancer. Nona and Apollo were still pretty young and our dad worked all the time. The little twits ran off any nanny our dad hired so I looked after them most of the time,” I explained.

“I'm sorry about your mama, stella mia,” and he laid a kiss on my forehead. “It sounds like you were forced to grow up too soon.”

“Don't be,” I responded. I'd long ago come to grips with my mother's death. “And believe it or not, I'm glad I took care of Nona and Apollo. It made us really close.”

“ _No clone nookie! Original nookie only!”_

At that moment, my cell phone started ringing. I sat up and grabbed it from where I had left it on the nightstand. Looking at the caller I.D. I chuckled. Apollo's ears must have been burning. “Hello?” I answered.

“Da... Dad, I ha... hate you!” My little brother was slurring. There was techno music blaring in the background.

I rolled my eyes. The idiot was drunk off his ass. “Apollo, it's Diana, not dad... and, PLEASE, don't call Dad and say that,” I groaned. That was a mess that I just didn't feel like cleaning up... again.

I heard a small scuffle before an unfamiliar but sober voice came on the line. “Sorry lass, tried to nick the phone before he called anyone. Got it now though. No worries.”

“Thank you... whoever you are.” I shook my head as I disconnected the call.

“Everything okay, dolchezza?” Dave asked as I put my phone back on the nightstand and reclaimed my spot cuddled up to his chest.

“Yep, just wondering when exactly I dropped Apollo on his head when he was a kid.”

 

 

**_[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) _ **


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